


Serious Moonlight

by der_tanzer



Series: Catbread [35]
Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-07
Updated: 2011-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Ted wanted was just to make him shiver and sweat in the moonlight with the evening breeze cooling their skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serious Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> This might be the last Catbread fic. Some new idea could always occur to me that needs writing, but if it doesn't, this feels like a nice place to stop. I hope you all agree.  
> Title from David Bowie.  
> 

The evening was warm but a gentle breeze off the ocean cooled the backyard and Murray stood on the deck watching the stars. Ted was washing the dishes from supper, aided by the air conditioning, but Murray preferred the breeze. He leaned his elbows on the wide, waist-high railing and pondered whether he should have offered to help. He did most of the housework and had cooked the meal, but still—it seemed like Ted got tired so easily these days. Murray didn’t mind doing all the work, but he did mind the need for it. He didn’t want to see Ted dragging his feet at the end of the day, looking old and worn out. The problem wasn’t that Murray didn’t want to bear his load for him, it was that Ted wouldn’t let him do as much as he wanted. He decided to go back in and insist on doing the dishes, but as he was straightening up he heard the glass door slide open. Brisk footsteps crossed the deck and strong arms wrapped around him from behind. Murray lifted one bare foot and rubbed it against Ted’s shin, an odd but familiar greeting.

“How’re you doing, kid?”

“Good. I’m good. I wish you’d let me do the dishes, though.”

“How useless do you think I am?”

“You’re not useless at all. I just hate to see you waste your energy on things that I could do. But isn’t it a beautiful evening?”

“It’s gorgeous from where I’m standing,” Ted agreed. He rested his cheek on one sharp shoulder blade and pressed his full erection against Murray’s ass.

“So you didn’t use up all your energy after all. I stand corrected.”

Ted ran his hands up Murray’s chest, under his two layers of shirts, and caressed his smooth skin lightly. Murray shivered lightly, breaking out in goosebumps. Ted petted him for a few moments before peeling off his overshirt and dropping it on the deck. Then he put his hands on Murray’s waist and stroked up his back, rolling his t-shirt from the bottom and easing it over his head. Murray let it fall down his arms and shook it off as Ted fingered the knobs of his spine, making him shiver anew.

“Do you want to go inside?” he whispered. Ted leaned closer and kissed him between the shoulder blades.

“Not really. You have a problem with that?”

“No. No problem.”

Ted reached for his belt, opening the buckle as Murray’s cock rose under his hands. He leaned comfortably against the narrow back as he unbuttoned Murray’s fly and slipped one hand down inside his shorts. He liked this part—feeling the warm, silky flesh grow hard against his palm, rolling the soft testicles between his fingers until they, too, swelled and grew tight—and Murray’s quick, panting breaths suggested he liked it as well. Being outside added a little to the thrill, even if the high fences protected them from view, but what Ted wanted was just to make him shiver and sweat in the moonlight with the evening breeze cooling their skin.

He dropped Murray’s pants and felt a sharp stab of desire when Murray stepped out of them and kicked them away. That was good. They were on the same page. Ted pulled off his shirt and undid his own fly. He drew a tube of K-Y from his pocket and then kicked off his jeans as Murray had done. For long minutes they stood there, Murray leaning with his forearms on the rail and breathing hard to keep from moaning while Ted fingered him, shallow and slow, all teasing pleasure with no attempt to stretch.

He felt Ted’s erection against his hip and knew from the unwavering hardness of it that he was already wearing the cock ring. He must have put it on before he came outside and Murray found the image of Ted stroking himself to readiness in faith that his lover would comply to be ridiculously exciting. He gripped the outer edge of the railing and rocked back, begging for something more than teasing.

Ted withdrew his hand and stepped closer, pushing Murray’s feet farther apart. He spread the soft, round ass cheeks with his thumbs and pressed the head of his cock to Murray’s tight pucker. For a few seconds they were still, prolonging the magic as the moonlight gleamed on Murray’s pale back and the light breeze ruffled his hair. Then Ted was pushing into him, nudging him open in tiny increments and Murray rocked with him, taking what he gave but on his own terms, so it wouldn’t hurt and spoil the fun. Ted held him by the hips, steady but loose, letting him have it his way, and Murray rewarded him with quick little twists and thrusts; hints of what he’d get in a few minutes, when Murray was ready to give up control for real.

One swift buck pushed the head of his cock inside and Murray took it with a soft grunt. He paused, then pulled off just enough so the thickest ridge of the crown caught at the tight ring of his entrance. He hung there for long seconds, head bowed, muscles twitching, then pushed back slowly, exhaling a continuous moan as Ted sank into him. Now the hands on his hips tightened, Ted holding him still so he could pull back and thrust properly—shallow at first and then deeper as Murray relaxed and opened for him.

“That okay, baby? You like that?”

“Yes. God, yes,” Murray groaned. His arms trembled, sweat ran down his back, and when Ted kicked his feet farther apart, he leaned forward and then pushed back, hard. Ted leaned into him, groaning softly as tight flesh enveloped him, hot and clingy like wet silk.

“I love you,” he whispered, overcome. “Baby, so much. Love you so much.”

“I know, Lieutenant. I love you, too.”

No more words were spoken, but none were needed. Ted’s hands roamed over Murray’s smooth skin, tickling his ribs and tweaking his nipples before dropping to his hips again. He kept his strokes slow and easy, his grip gentle, but every thrust was accompanied by a soft grunt that betrayed the effort of his restraint. Murray, sensing his determination to be sweet, moved with him and didn’t try to take control. Ted knew that he wanted something more than the light brushes over his gland, but he wasn’t going to pound the kid into a screaming frenzy out here on the deck. Then he smiled to himself and leaned down to kiss Murray’s straining back. _Kid_ , he still called him, after ten years together and the recent celebration of Murray’s forty-fourth birthday. But he was. He would always be Ted Quinlan’s cheerful little kid, the center of his life and the sole focus of his desire.

A sweet tingling itch climbed up the insides of his thighs and settled like fiery coals in his belly, almost as hot as the body that consumed his. He shortened his strokes, tickling the itch until it reached his chest and coiled around his heart, then thrust fast and deep, wrenching a sharp cry of pleasure from the man who wanted nothing more than to scratch that itch for him. His hands tightened on the bony hips, but there was no need for force. Murray rocked and swayed on the balls of his feet, flexing his back and clenching his deep muscles in relentless waves that brought Ted to a frantic, gasping orgasm within moments.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, pulling out carefully and sinking to his knees. Murray turned around, leaning backward on the railing and heaping more punishment on his sore elbows. His legs were shaking too much to support him and he hadn’t quite decided if he wanted to fall down or not. He saw that Ted’s cock was still hard in the grip of the tight band and wondered if he would be invited to use it for his own pleasure. But before he could ask, Ted unbound himself and let his erection wilt. He seemed to sense Murray’s hungry gaze upon him, though, and raised his head with a devilish smile. He crawled forward on his knees, pushed Murray’s feet apart, and wrapped strong hands around his skinny thighs. Murray looked down, saw the flash of moonlight on Ted’s gold wedding band, and nearly collapsed in spite of his grip on the rail.

But Ted was still looking up at him and for a second their eyes met. Then he bowed his head and took Murray’s cock, painfully hard and dripping strings of pre-come, into his mouth. Murray gasped and sagged on his arms, weak with need and the nearness of satisfaction. He’d wanted to come before, with his beloved husband buried inside him, but this was almost better. It was wet and sloppy, hot and frantic, all tongue and teeth and amazingly deep suction. Murray wanted to hold onto him, wanted to feel Ted’s skin beneath his palms and acknowledge the pleasure than even now was overwhelming him, but he couldn’t let go of the rail. To move even one arm would mean falling on the deck and, at the very least, cheating himself out of the climax that was only moments away. Then Ted’s finger slipped inside him, stroking a slow counterpoint to the faster action of his tongue. Murray’s legs trembled alarmingly and his breathy moans turned to low, needy whines, but he managed to stay on his feet. At least until he came, thrusting as best he could without leverage, biting his lips to hold back whimpering cries.

When the spasm had passed he was surprised to feel his cock sliding out of Ted’s mouth, and more surprised still when he realized it was because his own body was sinking toward the ground. He had time to think that this was going to hurt and then Ted’s arms were around his waist, drawing him into his lap and holding him close until the trembling stopped.


End file.
